


07. Fries

by strangeera



Series: Blew It [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, High School, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeera/pseuds/strangeera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drugs, the internet, first kisses and the graveyard. an impasse. sterek high school au. vignette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	07. Fries

I'm jerking him off on the floor in my basement with the lights off and Stiles is wearing a dip dyed blue t-shirt with the words DON'T CARE on it and holding a PS3 controller and not looking at me with my hand working his dick and a gaping, bloody hole in the middle of my chest. I'm leaking but he doesn't notice, or pretends not to. Whatever. This means not that much to either of us now. I'm not really into it. Like not at all. Catch my reflection in the TV screen: I look sad but when do I NOT.

 

Beneath the glow from the TV he appears vaguely mystical, holographic. My hand on his dick glitches and reappears. He says something but the sound cuts off. On the TV a cartoon duck says: “we seem to have reached an impasse.” Totally. Without looking at me Stiles says and breathing heavily: “you look sad. You're really bumming me out, man.”

 

I'm laughing but it sounds weird and distorted. I just don't know. I say: “like can't you pretend to be into me for five seconds?” I'm smiling but it's piXEa latedddffgfhdga.

 

The basement smells like Stiles' dick and my hand is wet with Stiles' come. He doesn't say anything. I'm so irritated and hot and kind of pissed off and the smoke from the joint swirling like a vortex around us is making my eyes itch and my mouth dry and Stiles' blue dip-dyed t-shirt that says DON'T CARE is just too fucking much okay so I say: “take off your t-shirt,” and he looks down at the PS3 controller in his hands which is flashing red, probably counting down to something terrible and apocalyptic and he nods and shakes a cigarette from the almost empty pack balancing on his trembling left knee and quickly lights it with the black lighter with the picture of a palm tree on it that says wish you were here and exhaling a shaky stream of neon blue smoke, he says: “okay,” and takes off the t-shirt.

 

“Um, do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, cigarette clenched between his dry lips. “Like, is that-” I'm yawning, still kind of nonchalantly jerking him off. He isn't wearing any socks and his toes look weird, demonic or something.

 

“No thanks,” I sigh and he finally looks over at me and I see myself reflected in his light black irises. Washed out and high as fuck. I look dead.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. “That's okay,” I say. “Like, can I come in your mouth?” he asks. “No fucking way,” I say. The subtitles say (HEAVY BREATHING). The basement stops.

 

-

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I'm asking, sniffing my t-shirt and shrugging then throwing it away. The basement smells like fries. “Is that what you want?” I'm soaking.

 

“I guess,” Derek says with this weird look on his dumb face that makes me want to like fuck him up real bad and fuck him on his back on the floor like a faggot. The fry smell is making me hungry.

 

“Lie down on your back on the floor,” I say, smiling about it. “Okay,” he says. Too fuckin' easy, man. I'm so turned on I'm swelling.


End file.
